Father
by Allusho
Summary: Concerning Negi's strong desire in locating his father. To achieve a goal is never easy, what more such a subjective mission, for Nagi Springfield could be anywhere. Obstacles and challenges are bound to stray and get in the way of the route taken. This s


It has been two days. Went on for two long, torturous and curious days.

Negi closed the door behind him as quietly as he could without causing any disturbance to the other teachers. It was closing in to the Bon Odori festival now, and everyone was busy preparing proposals and pulling plans out of thin air for the celebration prior to the festival. The principal himself had made a rare appearance in the airy classroom and requested each and every teacher to make the celebration a success. Thus everyone's enthusiasm.

Negi himself had reacted with zealousness too, even more than the other staffs, if possible. For the Wales bozu, this Bon Odori would be his very first. He had read about in books, but that is nothing compared to experiencing it firsthand. To be part of it…well, let's just say that to his child-like mind – it was the finest thing that he could ever hope for. He had big plans, and so did his students. Everyone had chipped in on the ideas, ranging from the norm such as selling bakeries; to the exotic, such as setting firecrackers for anyone who wishes it as dedication to their special persons. They had then proceeded to knock the ideas into a firm foundation that they can begin on seriously.

But that…was some time back. Ever since two days ago, curious little stars and flashes of light had been kind enough to grace his vision with their visits. Not-so-melodious sound of buzzing also persisted in his ears, exactly like how a housefly that had made up its mind to make you as its landing track. Exactly that sound. Same frequency, same shrillness.

Negi heaved a heavy sigh and slowly made his way to his table. Just a few moments before, when his class had finally ended, his eyesight did a strange spin, making everything seem as if they had gone on a salsa fever – twisting and turning for all they are worth. It was lucky no one noticed his feeble and meager attempt to knock his vision into focus. Otherwise he would not have it that easy. In other words, he would be placed on the witness stand, literally.

Listlessly dropping his books onto the table and sliding into his chair, Negi tilted his head backwards. He took a deep breath; closing his eyes as he exhaled slowly, willing the knot of tension in his body and mind to subside. And so he remained for the next few moments. At the moment, the silence in the staff room was blissful – a kind of substantial comfort –

"Negi-kun, are you feeling fine?"

Negi jerked up so quickly that his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose in mild shock. Brown eyes widened slightly before returning to their normal size. The moment he made out who had called him, though, his posture relaxed again.

Perhaps, it was due to his numerous encounters with the deflected members if the Kansai Magic Association presently, or perhaps it was his lengthening apprenticeship with Evangeline AK McDowell, he had developed a wary side to his personality. The slightest suspicion was all it took to command his entire attention and to put his defenses up.

"Takamichi…that really shocked me," Negi managed a smile. His vision was doing the salsa twist again. Takahata's face swam in and out, like a washed-out photograph. Negi clutched at the arm of the chair, trying to resist the urge to raise his hand and knock the side of his head.

"Negi-kun?"

"Yes?" Negi smiled back wanly. His eyes were open and gazing directly at Takahata, scrunched up into what he hoped was the calm, composed and concentrated expression that he normally had on during conversations with Takahata. As he did this, his clutch on the arm of the chair tightened.

"You are alright, aren't you?"

"Yes. Don't worry!"

He thought that his voice sounded a tad too high pitched, and for a moment, he thought that Takahata had noticed it too, but when Takahata shrugged lightly and allowed a genial smile to pass his face, Negi breathed a sigh of relief.

"Don't push yourself too hard. You need to learn to relax, okay?"

Negi nodded as jovially as his current condition allowed. The closest father figure that he has ever had all along always made it a routine to drop by and throw in encouragements and reminders periodically.

It is not that Negi had been abused or bullied during his current ten years of life; in fact, Nekane did more that what a cousin is responsible for. Nakane cared for him passionately, and had always patiently put up with Negi's childish antics during his younger years. That would have been an ordinary statement if Negi's so-called childish antics were the normal tantrums experienced by a typical young four-year-old. But Negi is not an average four-year-old. He is the one son of Nagi Springfield – the famed and feared Thousand Master; and he was granted access to the knowledge of his heritage since young.

Not only did Negi managed to inherit his father's bloodline, he also inherited a few certain traits of his father's. Negi proved that point when he remained hard-headed and persistent to his beliefs. One of his naïve beliefs that he was rather ashamed of now was the thought that the Thousand Master would appear to rescue him when he is in danger. Thousand Master, his father…well, you figure out the equation.

Anyway, back then, little Negi spent a lot of his spare time running around trying to get himself into as many difficult spots as he could. Wild dogs chasing after him, getting stuck up in the bell tower of the village, sparring with a bear – you name it, Negi's done it. Every time he got himself into a tight situation, his hopes would rise sky-high. Every time he was saved, he noticed that the person who always came to him and aided him back to safety was Takahata. Not Thousand Master. Then Nekane did the pampering, with Takahata assisting her occasionally.

Negi remembers none of the details too well; not that he wants to, now that he is more matured, but these vague memories gained Takahata a special place in his heart.

"So, don't you need to go anywhere today? I had noticed that you always rushed to clear up your desk on Thursdays for the past few months," Takahata asked casually, his eyes sweeping over the frame of the ten-year-old.

Negi's expression changed form relaxed to confused, then to horror so slowly and deliberately that it seemed as if an amateur animator had took on the job of drawing that change of facial expression.

"It's Thursday! Good grief, I forgot!"

Negi jumped out of his seat, and crammed everything into where he thought the things were supposed to be. In the process of this, he accidentally chucked a puncher into the wastepaper basket, and an eraser was sent on a flying mission over three desks, then landing heavily into a sea of cold, unattended coffee with a plop. Takahata snorted and mentally reminded himself to inform the owner of the cup of coffee.

In under half a minute, Negi was done and running out from the staffroom; his vision's salsa twist momentarily cleared.

"Bye, Takamichi!"

"Take care of yourself, Negi-kun."

"Yes, you too, Takamichi!"

- - -

"I have TOLD you so many times, get the lightning TOGETHER, not splintered OUT! We want the destructive force FOCUSED! Not SPREAD OUT!"

Negi winced heavily, unable to look directly at Evangeline. He had been practicing this particular spell for the last three weeks, and yet he managed nothing. No improvement at all, and somehow today's attempt at the same spell was worse than before. While his previous attempts at getting the lightning bolts to focus on one spot would fry a few threes as consequence, he was careful enough to steer the bolts away from Evangeline and Chachamaru. But today…if Evangeline had not been alert enough, both she and Chachamary would have joined the ranks of the noble trees that sacrificed themselves for Negi's training sake. To top it all, he had been late. **Half an hour** late.

Not surprising that Evangeline had decided to be extra bitchy towards him today. Her temper boiled, supported by the heat of anger.

"I am…sorry – "

The very phrase that irked her –

"What are you?! A broken record?! Apologising again and again! For what purpose?!"

"I – "

"You want to find your father at this rate you are going?! Please, don't even dream about it. You were not focusing at all. Frankly, I am beginning to wonder if the fact that you are his offspring could have been a mere cheap con scheme," Evangeline's voice fell, and all these she uttered with fierce conviction, reinforced with a sharp gleam in her emeralds, then letting the climax to fall into the hands of Silence.

It was sudden. Not even Evangeline had intended for it to come out like that in her epitome of anger. Surprise penetrated and chilled her to her bones. She never intended it that way.

But what was done was done, and what was said was said. Could not be changed and altered in any way possible. She had to hold up her pride, and so allowed the fast-diminishing anger to guide her pathway. For now.

As for the boy…what stunned him was not what Evangeline had said, but the fact that the blonde vampire had thought of it that way. For a long moment, Evangeline and Negi stared at each other – Negi in shock and pain; Evangeline in fabricated irritation and incomprehensible sternness.

Even expressionless, robotic Chachamaru was affected by the intensity charging in the air, and she fidgeted slightly as she stood between her two superiors. She fidgeted a little more when the moment lengthened, and she decided, for once, to take things into her hands.

"Master – "

Chachamaru was aware that she would be severely reprimanded by her master for such actions, and was ready for it just so that the heaviness in the air, emphasized by the dawning darkness, could disperse. She was saved from it.

"I understand, master. Thank you for pointing that out. I will try and work harder to improve on it. And if you don't mind, master, can we end now? Thank you."

Negi's attempt at trying to hide his pain was valiant and visible, but his words stumbled and clashed over each other, just as racing horses seemed to do when they are released from the waiting store onto the racing tracks.

Child and his beloved gift from his missing father departed in a flurry, leaving a bitter trace. Evangeline and Chachamaru stood in the glade for a while in silence, both struggling not to look at each other.

"Tch…such a weak child. Shouldn't have accepted him as my apprentice," Evangeline finally snorted and made to walk back towards their cabin situated not too far away from the practice glade. Chachamaru took the initiative to shift her gaze on the retreating back of the vampire.

"Master, was there a need for that?"

Evangeline stopped.

_Was there?_

_No? Yes?_

"That child –"

Oh yes… 

" – has to learn –"

…_today is the day…_

"– to be stronger –"

…_his birthday…_

"– to release himself –"

…_and the day he was declared…_

"– from his father's shadow –"

…_missing…_

"Assume his own identity."

_Stupid Nagi…and your son._

Evangeline resumed walking, this time not as proudly erected as she was just now. Her head was a little bowed, and her bangs covered her eyes a little. After a few moments of silent pondering, Chachamaru gave a mechanical affirmative.

"Understood."

- - -

Takahata allowed himself the liberty to whistle a tune or two as he walked down the beaten pathway, while he swung the heavy plastic bag in his right hand. The contents clinked dangerously. It was already closing in to midnight, and although there would rarely be anyone around, Takahata did not want any commotion. For the past nine years, he had always performed this simple ritual in a quiet way.

Always the same place, always the same time, always the same silence, always…alone.

Not that he minded.

After walking the length, Takahata arrived in front of a stretch of bushes that grew so erratically, so wildly – tall and thick. Dots of pure white periwinkles dotted the carpet of green, and it looked like stars stuck in green midnight sky. The spineless top of the bushes danced and waved in the wind, like little ballet dancers excitedly dancing towards their exit after the end of their performance.

Takahata pulled himself to his full height and began to force his way through the warring bushes. One hand gripping the plastic bag, and the other hand pushed against stray leaves getting into his way. It was not easy. The plants seemed intent on preventing him from reaching his goal. Some pulled stubbornly at his coat, some at his hair; but still, in the end, Takahata succeeded.

Takahata's reward opened up immediately after the success. The view of the deep aquatic blue lake sprinkled with talkative reflections of the heavenly bodies above was breathtaking. Coupled with the fact that Takahata's current spot was safely surrounded by a wall of bushes on all four sides made it a private and safe natural cabin.

"You have grown stronger this year, haven't you?" Takahata smiled at his overpowered opponent that seemed to bow in defeat without the presence of the blowing wind. Then Takahata placed down his package and sat down beside it. He took a deep breath, and as he let it out, laid himself down on the soft, carpet-like grass.

Silence enveloped the surrounding and its new occupant, leaving in its wake a faint feeling of calmness and peace. Takahata's voice rebelled against it when he spoke.

"Hey, it's been nine years already. Going to close in to ten. When are you coming back?"

It was said casually, but the hint of regret and bitterness was there. Obvious.

"Negi's here. Aren't you going to come back and see him? He's your son. Looks a lot like you…but so unlike you. And your friends? Partners? Us? You used to rank us pretty high, remember?"

Takahata slowly sat up, as if moving too fast would shatter the peace. He dipped his hand into the package he brought with him and pulled out a small bottle of sake, followed by another two small cups specially crafted for maximized pleasure of drinking. He proceeded to fill both cups, took one and slowly drained it empty.

"Well, as usual. I don't know if you'll hear me from wherever you are, but happy birthday."

Then he lay back upon the ground, hands propped behind his head, and submerged himself in the luxurious environment. Occasionally, he got up, filled his cup and tipped the substance down his throat, then laid down again. Once in a while he whistled a tune or two; tunes thick with recollection.

A few more repetitions of this action and the bottle of sake was finished. Takahata stretched and yawned widely, relaxed as relaxed a man is allowed to go – then froze very suddenly.

It was not something that he intended to do; his sharp ears had caught a faint sound – a cross between the rustle of leaves and an uneasy whimper. Takahata's barrier was raised; his body went rigid as he crouched on one knee, ready for offence if there was a need.

Nothing came.

Takahata frowned. Could it have been just a wild cat passing by? His paranoia? His imagination, perhaps?

He was spared the agony of answering those questions because the sound came again – clear and crisp. Takahata's frown deepened as his defenses raised another notch. Definitely not a cat, neither was it part of his infamous, seemingly far-fetched but ever true imagination.

Still nothing came.

Takahata's curiosity took over him, and he assumed his first principle of life – never wait for things to come to you. You go to them. Takahata swiftly got up, the drinking utensils abandoned. His focus narrowed in on a particular area behind the patch of bush on his right – the very spot where he thought the noise originated.

Nay, not thought. He **knew** it originated from there. He was sure of it. His ears have yet to fail him.

Caution peppered his every move as he slowly inched towards the bush and tried to pry it apart noiselessly. This time, the battle was more difficult. There were no previously beaten pathways created by the younger versions of himself and Nagi to make things easier.

But he managed at last, stumbling through and grunting a little every now and then. He was surprised at its thickness, but he was even more surprised at what he found lying on another patch of grass similar to his own.

Negi lay curled into a ball on his sides. His staff, unwrapped, accompanied the young magician,

Takahata emitted a high squeak of acknowledged astonishment, then quickly smothered it so as not to disturb the sleeping child. He maintained his position and took his time soaking up the sight in front of him. Negi's untied hair, dusty clothes, his haphazard and askew glasses – how he pulled in his limbs protectively around himself, and how the staff was gripped in the protected area. Slowly approaching the child sensei as quietly as possible, Takahata smiled and reflected again on how Negi looked so much like his old partner.

That smile was quickly chased away when he saw Negi pulled in even further and heard another whimper – this time clearly audible.

Stealth was abandoned.

"Negi-kun, what happened?"

Takahata picked Negi's body up as gently as possible, and immediately he knew something was wrong. His instincts again, perhaps, but when he clutched Negi closer; his other hand automatically went to the forehead.

Suspicion confirmed. The degree of warmth radiated was higher than usual – so much more that Takahata pulled away in surprise.

"Negi-kun, you're sick!"

Negi responded with a faint sob.

"Negi-kun?" Takahata's tone was laced with anxiety and worry.

Another sob.

"Negi-kun!" Takahata gave the young child a gentle but urgent shake.

Whimper.

"Negi-kun, wake up," this time Takahata's voice assumed a quality of calmness – demanding. And Negi, as if sensing it, slowly opened his eyes.

Takahata expected mere blurry, sleep-hooded brown eyes peering back smilingly at him, not tear-filled, uncertain ones. It was exactly the latter that Negi gave, and it threw him off-guard. He quickly masked it as well as he could.

"Negi-kun."

Silence.

"Taka…michi…"

Negi's broken voice wrenched Takahata's heart. The child of Nagi, his young charge, unofficially assigned to him. Takahata cared deeply for Negi, and wished that he could be more expressive about his concern towards the boy.

"Yes, Negi-kun, you're sick."

"Takamichi…"

Negi reached out blindly towards Takahata. Obligingly, Takahata grasped the searching hand.

"Yes?"

"Am I…an orphan?"

This time, Takahata could not hide his surprise.

"Negi-kun, what are you talking about?!"

"Am I an – "

'Negi Springfield."

As if Takahata's demanding voice was the only key to unlocking the dam of despair in him, Negi's tears poured.

"Takamichi, I dreamt…I saw father…and I called and called, but he walked away, and I can't even reach him no matter how hard I try, and I couldn't master the spells as well as him. Master said that I am fake – "

"Do you have to take to heart what she said?"

Takahata frowned. He would have to talk to Evangeline about this.

Negi did not reply verbally, but his body shuddered.

"Takamichi…the thing is…I don't remember neither father's nor mother's smile…"

Negi's whispered explanation forced Takahata to look away in pain.

Yes…that is painful… 

"Takamichi…am I a fake? Some random…orphan – "

"No."

Hard and clear, and Takahata clutched the child closer to himself.

"Negi, listen to me. You are not any orphan. You are the son of the Thousand Master, understand?"

"But – "

"No. Good Lord, what made you think…look – "

Takahata forced Negi to look up at him. When he was certain that he has Negi's attention, he continued.

"I don't have any evidence to prove to you, but I can say to you, with not a single bit of doubt – you are the son of Nagi," Takahata paused to let the statement sink in. He looked down at Negi's widened eyes; it looked oddly glassy with the withheld tears. It pained Takahata to see the child in such a state of confusion, but he stared on unyieldingly.

"Do you believe in me, Negi-kun?"

Posed in so straightforward a way, it took Negi a while to comprehend the underlying meaning. Takahata was staking everything by asking the question. Should Negi choose to say no, it would seriously hurt Takahata's feelings, and their relationship will never be the same.

'I…"

Takahata's eyes narrowed. A warning to Negi that he is to say the truth, whatever the reason. Negi tried again.

"I…"

A tremble suddenly coursed through Negi, and he abandoned any effort to hold back his tears. He gasped a sob and pulled his hand out of Takahata's grasp before throwing himself against Takahata. Burying his face deep into the elder man's chest, the sobs slowly grew into muffled wails.

"Yes!"

Takahata's rigid body slowly relaxed and his eyes grew moist. Both arms immediately curled protectively around the child, and then pulled him deeper into his own chest. One hand rubbed Negi's back, and he affectionately placed a chin on the boy's head.

"Let's go home."

- - -

Takahata tucked the blanket securely around Negi, smiling softly as he glanced at the boy's flushed but calm sleeping face. Then, he turned to the bucket of water beside the occupied bed, fished out a piece of cloth and squeezed it dry. Turning back to his current object of concern, he folded the piece of cool cloth and placed it on Negi's forehead.

"Sleep well, Negi-kun

And ruffled the brown head.


End file.
